


We'll Never Fall Apart

by GMTYUniverse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: But also pre-make up, Exes to Lovers, Famous Harry, Harry is an actor, I guess there is some angst in here, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Post-Break Up, Sound Engineer!Liam, a Cocker Spaniel called Ollie, amongst other things of course, and also louis is not his psychologist FYI! He does research, brief mentions of Jay passing away, but also fluff, or well Oliver but they call him Ollie for short, psychologist Louis, singer!niall, that being the dog, they kind of share that really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GMTYUniverse/pseuds/GMTYUniverse
Summary: Harry’s hand seems to tremble a bit as he takes the pen from Louis.Louis pretends he doesn’t notice.It’s not his right anymore to notice, he thinks to himself. Or maybe it is – as friends. He’s not sure what being just friends entails, if he’s being entirely honest. He’s a bit confused where they’ve drawn the line, or will be drawing the line. It's just - it’s not really clear where they stand at the moment. Despite all the paperwork surrounding Oliver, there's so much left unsaid. Then again, maybe everything already has been said and Louis is just scrambling for reasons to keep holding on.or the one where Louis and Harry's relationship falls apart after 7 years, but the rescue dog they raised together doesn’t understand the joint-custody agreement they’ve hashed out.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> yay thanks Lauren for organising this and thanks to whomever submitted this prompt! I loved writing it :) 
> 
> Title taken from 'Two Pieces' by Demi Lovato

 

“This is it, then?”

There’s some scratching on paper that Oliver doesn’t really understand, and then Louis suddenly pulls himself up from his seat. He immediately trots over to him, expecting a pat on the head at the very least. Instead, he gets an incredibly firm hug that he’d normally try to wriggle his way out of. However, he can clearly feel the anxious energy rolling off of Louis in waves, so instead he just kind of sags into it.

Hopefully it’ll provide Louis with some comfort. He doesn’t like seeing him unhappy.

‘I’ll see you next week buddy. Love you so much. Be good for Haz - Harry, okay?’

Oliver puts his head on Louis’ hand, asking for another scratch. Louis’ smile at the gesture is fond but weak, and it makes a confused little huff escape Oliver’s lungs. He doesn’t understand what’s made him so sad. Doesn’t get what’s going on at all, what with Louis and Harry sitting on opposite sides of the table.

Harry has been missing for weeks now from the house, and he’d been delighted to see him. But somehow it’d seemed as if he’d been the only one excited about their reunion. He doesn't like the room they are in either. It's too clean, and too cold, and it doesn't have a water bowl or a nice fluffy pillow for him to sit on. He's tried climbing onto a sofa, but Louis has surprisingly told him off. It's a little strange. Louis always lets him sleep on the sofa at home, even at the place of Louis’ female clone where they’ve been visiting recently. Then again, lately he’s been allowed to sleep on the bed. It's nice. Makes Oliver feel loved and happy and safe. He’s found a nice burrow right in the crook of Louis’ knees, which he hopes he'll be allowed to keep on using when they return home with Harry.

Because despite that nice burrow, he misses Harry's presence. He misses how Harry always slides him a piece of his peanut butter toast in the morning. He’s also quite sure that Louis misses the way Harry makes him his cuppa. Louis is used to making him his breakfast in return - Oliver has seen him make two of everything and then sigh as the seat next to him remains empty.

In the absence of Harry, Oliver has taken it upon himself to jump on the sofa more often than not to provide Louis with some comfort. But it’s not the same.

All he wants is for things to be the same, and to see his humans happy. But currently, with the sadness radiating off of both of his humans, he’s not sure that’s going to happen.

He suddenly feels a slight tug around his neck, and he realises that Harry has taken hold of his leash again, subtly pulling him away from Louis.

Confused, he trudges dutifully after Harry until they come to a standstill just outside the building they’d been in. The parking area is rather empty, but Oliver manages to find a little flower that could probably use some watering. After relieving himself, he looks around in hopes of spotting his other human.

Louis exits the building just then, but he isn’t even looking at them. Nevertheless, Oliver can hear his hitched breathing perfectly well. He barks just once, in case Louis hadn’t meant to leave them when he’s all distraught. Louis flinches, but doesn’t turn around. Oliver doesn’t get it.

“Come on, Ollie. Time to go,” Harry gently coaxes him, and Oliver is getting very suspicious now. He can’t help the whimper that escapes him when Harry pulls on the leash and blocks his sight. He wants to ask why they’re taking different cars, why he’s not allowed to watch Louis leave, why Louis is leaving at all.

“I’m sorry.” Harry whispers as Oliver looks up at him. He’s not sure what exactly Harry is apologizing for, he just hopes that sooner or later Louis will show up at wherever Harry is taking him.

Humans are dumb, and stupid, and they only break your heart, is what Oliver tells himself when he lets himself be dragged into Harry’s car.

“I promise we’ll have a good time. I’ve taken time off, it’ll be fun. We’ll go to the park. I’ve bought a bunch of new toys for you, and your favourite food. I – I know it won’t be the same, but I promise I’ll love you just as much.”

Somehow, that’s what makes Oliver want to reach over and lick Harry’s arm. Because love’s never been the problem, of that Oliver is 100% sure. And he will prove it, if he has to.

Stupid humans.


	2. Louis

Harry’s hand seems to tremble a bit as he takes the pen from Louis. Louis pretends he doesn’t notice. It’s not his right anymore to notice, he thinks to himself. Or maybe it is – as friends. He’s not sure what being just friends entails, if he’s being entirely honest. He’s a bit confused where they’ve drawn the line, or will be drawing the line. It’s not really clear where they stand at the moment with so much left unsaid – despite all the paperwork. Then again, maybe everything already has been said and Louis is just scrambling for reasons to keep holding on.

It’s all gone by so fast. And now here they are suddenly, 7 years down the drain, just like that. Seven years, a shared home for six, and a shared dog for five of those years. A lifetime of dreams and hopes and futures that no longer apply, are no longer relevant.

He feels something wet touch his leg. When he looks, he sees a black shiny nose pushing into his calf. Louis leans down to pet Oliver’s head. His movement takes exactly as long as it does for Harry to sign the paperwork, because he can hear him clear his throat in finality, and then the tell-tale shuffling of paper.

Emily has told Louis multiple times she thinks what they’re doing is ‘just a load of unnecessary shit’. But he isn’t so sure. They clearly weren’t working anymore. Even though he still has a hard time pinpointing what exactly tipped them over for good. He wishes he knew. Maybe he could – no. He shouldn’t even think that way. It’s pointless. They mutually agreed they had to break-up. That it was best for both of them as individuals. Besides, his friends don’t really understand. Can’t, even if they wanted to.

Louis functions on a whole different wavelength than Harry does. Traverses in different circles. He’s one of the biggest actors at the moment. And Louis is proud of him. He is. It just makes break-ups a lot more…complicated than they’d previously been for Louis, because he won’t ever really be able to fully escape and forget about him. Or maybe that’s just because it’s _Harry_.

And then there’s Oliver. Maybe signing a co-parenting agreement for a dog sounds ridiculous to his friends. It’s not that strange in Harry’s world. And Louis gets why he needs, _craves_ the legal security of his rights. He’s been burned too many times to trust most people, even if he loves them dearly. Louis isn’t so sure that he still qualifies for that category, but Oliver definitely does.

So he’s agreed. Even though Oliver in many ways is more Louis’ dog than Harry’s. In fact, if Louis is being entirely honest, part of the reason he agreed to sign the co-parenting agreement was fear. Because if Harry really wanted to, he’d have the means to take Oliver away from him. Louis doesn’t want that to happen – _can’t_ have that happen, really. He needs Oliver. He’s not going to give him up to Harry.

Even though that’s exactly what he’ll have to do right now. After their final fight – adult conversation, whatever – had ended, Harry had left for some other work commitment. Louis had taken the opportunity that was presented to him, and had packed his bags, had taken Oliver, and had promptly moved out and in with his sister.

It’s not ideal, living with his sister – but it’s also sobering and perhaps slightly heart breaking to realize how used he’d actually gotten to being on his own. Even with Harry around, he still felt lonely more often than not in their house.

He sighs as he climbs out of his car, and unlocks the front door of Lottie’s building. For a second or two, Louis hesitates on whether he’ll take the lift or stairs. In the end he goes for the stairs – it’s only four floors, and it’s not like he’ll get any other exercise this week. He’s used to walking Oliver, but he won’t be doing that for the upcoming days.

He supposes he’ll just focus on work. The faculty will be happy to hear their beloved professor Tomlinson is completely 100% focused on grading his students’ papers on neurocognition. He’s got a bit of a reputation of taking his sweet time. Not that he’s ever truly late, mind you – he just likes to make sure that he’s given them all the feedback they need to do better on their next assignment.

“There you are. How’d it go?” His sister all but attacks him as soon as he walks in. He knew there was a reason why he’d deliberated staying in a hotel. She’s lovely, and she means well, but Louis doesn’t really want to talk about it. Not now, maybe not ever.

‘Signed. Ollie’s with Harry now. I’ll be picking him up next week. Can we watch Queer Eye? Maybe I can fit it into one of next year’s courses.’

“Fine, but just know that for a psychologist you’re really stubborn and rely too much on unhealthy coping mechanisms yourself,” she chides him, pulling him in a brief but firm hug before handing over the remote.

He gives her a look, but she just rolls her eyes at Louis. “I know, I know – you’re the one with the psychology degree, I’m in business so clearly I don’t know what I’m talking about. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lou.”

Her eyes soften a bit after that. “I just want you to know you’re not alone. If you don’t want to talk to your little sister about it, I get that. I just – I hope you’re letting your heart heal a bit.”

Without looking, Louis can tell how sincere her words are. Louis knows why she’s saying it, but he doesn’t want to let her see that part of him that he’s so carefully put away. Ollie, in many ways was a much needed band-aid at the time.

‘Don’t worry about me, Lots. I’ll be fine. It’s just shitty right now but I promise I’ll get a new flat soon and I’ll be out of your hair.’

“You know it’s not about that. Even though, yes, I would love to see my laundry reduced to just my own stuff. And not have my sweaters get stolen by you. And maybe also not have my counter covered in spilled cereal, or a dog bowl filled to the brim with water to step into right after getting home, or –”

Louis quickly pulls of his socks only to throw one at his sister’s head to make her stop talking about all of his flaws, a grin slowly making its way to his face as she shrieks before bursting out in a giggle.

“I truly do hate your stinky feet but I still love you. That’s all,” she can’t help but finish. It makes his heart warm a little. He’s lucky, so lucky to have her.

‘Mum’d be so proud of you, you know,’ he can’t help the words slipping out of his mouth. Sometimes he’s still overwhelmed with an aching loss, and a simultaneous feeling of pride when he looks at how his siblings turned out and coped and continue to function so splendidly.

Maybe Louis is a little jealous at times.

“She’s proud of you too, Lou.”

Louis doesn’t know about that. He’d really wanted her at his defence, and to see him get married to Harry. His heart breaks a little at the thought of having to meet someone new, knowing that he’ll never be able to introduce them to his mother – that they’ll never get to know her. That she’ll never get to see him with whoever he ends up spending his life with. She never saw him do a lot of things. It hurts. Will probably always hurt.

Normally this would be a moment where he’d turn to Ollie and give him a good cuddle. Louis can’t help the sigh that escapes him as it truly dawns on him he’s going to be without Ollie every other week now – and whenever Harry is abroad. Ironic that in all those years he’d never wished for Harry to go away for long amounts of time, yet now he would almost be supportive of it.  

“Look, your men are up next,” Lottie says as soon as Antoni and Tan come into frame, making Louis laugh in spite of how shitty he is feeling.

‘They’re all my men, Lottie. All of them.’ He wiggles his eyebrows for good measure, and tries to ignore the instinctual habit of making a joke about Antoni and Harry’s similarities.

 

* * *

 

He’s lucky that Lottie’s pretty organised and had helped him move out, so he doesn’t have to look very long for clean clothes in the morning. It’s strange going to work without having had to walk the dog, or having cuddled with Ollie at the very least.

Apparently Louis also looks a little frayed at the edges, despite being incredibly on time for once in his life – no dog (or Harry) to delay him after all, because his colleague immediately gives him an inquisitive look.

“What’s up?”

Louis guesses he should be glad it’s George who he’s run into first, and not Emily – who is much nosier in nature. Which, to be fair, she’s had a first row seat to most of his struggles with his relationship and been a great friend, so he guesses the nosiness is somewhat warranted at this point. Still. George didn’t even know who Harry was when he’d come to an office party once, and had awkwardly and unknowingly recreated the Notting Hill scene where he’d ignorantly asked about Harry’s career.

‘Ollie’s with Harry at the moment. Feels a bit weird, ‘s all.’

He gets a sympathetic nod in return, before George reaches up into a cupboard and pulls out Louis’ favourite mug (it says ‘and how does that make you feel’ on the side), then pours him a cup of tea. He suppresses a wince as he sees the rather generous amount of milk that gets poured into his mug just as he expected – George has a history of favouring far too much dairy for Louis’ liking - and smiles instead at the sweet gesture.

“Have you started looking for a new flat yet?”

‘I’m staying at my sister’s for now. Ideally I’d like to find something in the next week, but that’s such short notice. Harry offered to pull some strings for me, but I don’t want him to do that. I need a clean break, you know? As far as that’s even an option.’

On the one hand, it’s nice talking to George, exactly because he couldn’t really care at all about Harry and what he does for a living. On the other hand, George is still a fellow psychologist and he can see the cogs turning in his head, probably also debating whether or not to launch into a full on psychological review of what Louis has just shared. As if Louis isn’t constantly quietly debating his own thoughts and what made them pop up in his brain in the first place.

Normally, he doesn’t even really like to share anything about his personal life. It’s just that it kind of became unavoidable once the media got wind of Harry’s partner existing at all. They tried to be private about it, but then Harry had rocked up to Louis’ formal defence. It’d been lovely to have him there, yet the consequences weren’t that lovely at all.

He still isn't sure whether over the years some of his students enrolled because they loved the course and his teaching of the material, or if it was solely fuelled by the fact that he was dating Harry. He’ll find out this term, he supposes. Rationally, he assumes most of them just like him, since he never actually talks about Harry and the fascination usually wears off in a few weeks. Still – the thought lingers.

“You know, clean breaks are rather hard when you are intent on sharing a dog, Louis.”

‘You know, you’re not my psychologist, George.’

His remark elicits a big grin and accompanying nod from his colleague, who then turns to more pressing matters like whether Louis’ already seen the renovated lecture halls on the third floor. It’s not really a riveting conversation, but it does help make Louis feel a bit more settled – like everything’s normal.

Him and Harry decided to go their separate ways weeks ago already, after months of delaying the inevitable. That decision had been followed by Harry leaving the country for weeks on end due to his job, so it hadn’t really felt real. It’s different now though.

Louis swings by his own office that he shares with Emily, and frowns immediately when his eyes land on the photo frame on his desk. It has him, Harry and his mum staring back at him, big smiles on their faces. He just can’t throw it away, can’t even get himself to remove it from the frame for safekeeping somewhere else.

Besides. They’re supposed to remain friends. Or friendly. Something like that. For Ollie’s benefit, and all that. So that probably means that it’s alright for Louis to keep that photo on his desk. Or well, he hopes so.

‘Louis! I’d love to talk and catch up but I’ve got a class that I’m running and I’m already late as it is. Let’s grab lunch, yeah?’ Emily rushes in and out of their office with a quick squeeze of his arm.

Louis doesn’t know yet whether or not he’s feeling up to what he knows will be a regaling of all that had gone on since he’d last spoken to her, or if he simply even has the time to do that. He hadn’t gotten through nearly as much essays as he should’ve at Lottie’s over the weekend. Not that Emily is hanging around to check Louis’ reply, she’s out the door just as fast as she came in, leaving Louis alone once more.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he can’t help but snort at the text Liam’s sent him.

_Hve fun @ work today. Try not to think abt H too much._

He’s attached a link to Dua Lipa’s New Rules, which is of course meant very well but not fully applicable. Harry didn’t call him when he’s drunk. Actually, part of the problem was Harry not calling at all.

Another text comes through just when Louis’ trying to compose a reply.

_Also my flatmate’s moving out – u can stay here for now if u wanna_

And that’s a little unexpected. It’s a very nice offer, given the location of Liam’s flat and well – as much as he loves his sister, it can be a bit awkward at times when it comes to privacy.

It’d also save Louis from having to ruminate and get used to the idea of having to buy – rent, who is he even kidding – a new place for just him. He’s already missing his office space, as well as the nice attached bathroom he used to have when he lived with Harry. It’s kind of weird to think about Harry living in the big house that Harry had bought for the two of them, all by himself. It’s even worse to think about Harry living in that house with someone other than Louis, but it is what it is.

He’s had months where had to live in that big house all by himself too, with just Oliver to keep him company and it wasn’t all that nice – even if he did have all the space in the world.

_That’s amazing mate!! Pint after work?_

Liam doesn’t actually work similar hours to Louis at all, given that he’s a sound engineer and is dependent on when sessions are booked in, but he’ll know that Louis means around six-ish.

_Can do, have to b back @ 8 tho. Bringing Zayn, btw_

He’s glad he got to keep Liam and Zayn in the break-up, even though he can’t help but wonder if they also talk to Harry. He’s pretty sure Zayn doesn’t, but maybe Liam still has some form of contact with him. Not that Louis has any right to deny him that friendship – Harry and him split up on friendly terms. Liam and Zayn were friends they had in common, friends they shared once upon a time. It’s all fine.

Except thinking of Zayn makes Louis’ arms itch, wanting to scratch at the multiple visual reminders that he and Harry used to be an item for so long. He tries not to think about it too much, but every time he passes a mirror and sees the rope looped around his wrist, he kind of wants to burst into tears and have a little cry.

Not that he’d ever give into that feeling – at least not in public, probably, most certainly only behind closed doors backed into the bathroom where he knows no one can possibly hear or see him do it.

Apparently Harry’s publicist has had a productive morning, because the first thing Louis notices as he walks into his first and only class he teaches on Monday, is the universal look of pity and empathy painted on everyone’s faces. He’s not as prepared for it as he thinks he is, and he truly has to keep himself from reaching for his iPad to look up the statement he knows Harry was going to give. Louis knows that maybe he should address the situation to his students, but in the end he decides to ignore it and move on as usual, pairing them off so they can practice their techniques. Some professional distance must be maintained, and while that’s already difficult given Louis’ tendency to over-invest into his students and be a little clucky, right now it’s providing him with a much-needed buffer.

He only lasts for as long as the class takes. The moment the final student has left the lecture hall, Louis pulls out his phone and loads Harry’s twitter account.

“ _Getting used to Ollie being my only roommate, now.”_ It’s a tweet with a photo of Harry and Oliver cuddling attached to it. Underneath it is a tweet with the actual statement, saying that they’ve gone their separate ways but are committed to remaining friends.

He huffs a little bit at that. He’s not sure if he can be just friends with Harry, and being a couple clearly didn’t work out either. It’s really hard, having to let someone go when you love them so much, but it just started hurting you even more.

He knows it’s uncalled for, but the photo kind of makes Louis mad. Because Harry’s smiling in it, and he’s got Oliver. And Louis’ got nothing. Not a house, not a dog, not a publicist writing clinical statements about a relationship that lasted 7 years and sure they were wonderful at times but the end definitely wasn’t as wonderful as the statement makes it seem. But Harry looks like he’s doing just fine, and is adjusting perfectly to the new situation.

In a rush of anger, Louis clicks the unfollow button, then moves to Instagram to do the same. Harry has already deleted all photos of them together from his Instagram feed, which feels like Louis is physically getting his heart torn out all over again.

He knows it’s irrational, and that there’s no point at holding it against Harry if he’s moving on already and just trying to actually have that clean break they’d originally agreed upon. Still – the anger lingers throughout the day, as he finds himself being harsher in his essay critiques, pressing down on his pen just a bit too much whilst writing and creating angry, dark blue lines.

Louis ends up having lunch with some other colleagues he knows vaguely, keeping mostly to himself as they discuss research progress as well as the coffee quality in the common staff area. It’s not thrilling, but it’s also superficial enough that Louis feels comfortable engaging for a little bit to keep himself distracted.

He can’t help but feel somewhat relieved, though, when he enters the pub after work and spots Liam already sitting in a booth. He slides in a seat across from him, nodding approvingly at the sight of the two pints already on the table.

“Zayn’ll be here in about twenty minutes, said he still had one more appointment,” Liam informs him, then motions for Louis to clink their glasses.

‘Cheers then,’ he says, eager to get some alcohol in his system and forget about his day for a little bit.

“Cheers to living the single life, mate!”

He knows Liam is trying to help, but it immediately dampens Louis’ mood. He doesn’t even like being single, never has. Now he’s approaching thirty, and at one point he’s going to have to get back into the dating game. He wonders if he should tell his new future boyfriend about _Harry_ being his ex right away, or if he should let them figure it out themselves.

“Seriously, though Lou. You’ll be alright, yeah. You’ve got us, you’ve got Ollie. You’ve got your sisters. We all love you.”

Louis is getting the feeling he missed part of what Liam’s been saying to him while he was off thinking about future boyfriends and how Harry fits into that concept, which is probably not a great trail of thought to have at all. So, he blinks and chooses to focus on his friend instead, gives him a sweet and reassuring smile before asking Liam about his own work.

It’s a great topic, since Liam usually has a story or two about demanding producers and even vocalists who have no clue about what they’re doing or what Liam’s supposed to be doing. Louis grins as Liam launches into his latest experience, then moves to take off his jacket. He rolls up his sleeves a bit, given the fact that it’s quite warm in the pub and focuses back on Liam.

He’s just in time to catch both the tail-end of the story, and to see Liam’s eyes flock to Louis’ wrists. Pity enters Liam’s facial expression as his gaze stays fixed on Louis’ arms for just a tad too long. 

“You know, you could ask Zayn about them. Do you really want to constantly remind yourself of the past like that? You’ve literally got your relationship tattooed all over your body, crawling all over your arm.”

He knows Liam’s just trying to be nice, and it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed Louis’ own mind already, but it still feels oddly invasive. He kind of wants to pull down his sleeves again to hide his tattoos from view.

‘I don’t hate them, I think,’ Louis forces himself to say. ‘I don’t know yet what I’ll do, but I don’t – I can’t. Not yet, anyways.’

“That’s fine, babe. It’s up to you.” Liam seems to understand how conflicted he feels about the topic, as he then moves on to discuss the latest news with Louis. As depressing as it is, it’s easy to lose themselves in a discussion on American politics and how misinformation has spread like a disease. Louis loves analysing the psychological processes that belie people’s willingness to accept untruths as truths, and truths as lies instead, so this issue is right up his alley.

‘Discussing politics in a pub again? You’re both asking for trouble, I hope you know that. Also, have I got a story for you about racism, bro,’ Zayn interrupts them before plopping down on the seat next to Liam, arm slung casually around his shoulders.

It’s funny, Louis thinks, how they seem to seamlessly fall together like two puzzle pieces – yet they’ve never even crossed the line of friendship even a little bit. Maybe that’s what Harry and him should’ve done too. Maybe then he wouldn’t be in the position he was now. But then he also wouldn’t have Oliver, and he wouldn’t have known what it’s like to be so all-consumingly in love with someone either. He doesn’t think he’d give that up just to avoid the pain that came afterwards.

It’s in that moment that he decides he doesn’t need to get rid of his tattoos at all. Because loving Harry is part of him now, part of past him, and will probably always be a part of who Louis is as a person. Even if he’s not really in his life, he’ll always have a  place in Louis’ heart – broken or not.

He lets Zayn’s story about a rude customer who refused to get tattooed by an “Arab” distract him a bit, and he almost feels like things are normal again. It’s not like Harry ever came to these kind of get togethers either – too much risk of getting recognised – and he usually didn’t really have the time.

‘It’s nice to see you out and about, Lou. I mean that. You’re always welcome to hang at the shop,’ Zayn emphasises as they get up to leave the pub with Liam heading back to the studio. ‘I might even let you give me a tattoo,’ he adds, which elicits a grin from Louis.

“Oh you don’t know what you’ve just gotten yourself into!”

Zayn just rolls his eyes and pulls him in for a hug. ‘Just don’t want you feeling lonely, alright? If you want to be alone, I respect that. Just don’t feel lonely when you don’t have to.’

Louis nods at him reassuringly, then turns back to make his way to his car. He’ll survive – he knows he will. He tells himself that all the way home, that it’ll be fine, that it could’ve been worse, that no one cheated or intentionally hurt the other person, that they were just… no longer compatible. That it’s okay to feel like shit. That it’s normal to mourn a relationship that ends, that it usually takes 1/3 of the time the relationship lasted to get over it.

Still. It doesn’t make it easier when he realises that halfway through the drive home he apparently ended up taking the exit for his and Harry’s house, rather than Lottie’s place.

Sighing, he turns the car around and heads back in the right direction this time. It’s not like he has to hurry – no dog to walk, after all.

When he finally does arrive, having taken the long way home which includes a McDonald’s drive-thru pitstop, Lottie isn’t anywhere to be found.

‘Figures,’ he mutters to himself, then proceeds to fall onto the sofa and screams into a pillow.

Breaking up is really fucking hard.

 

* * *

 

 

He gets through the rest of the week by throwing himself into work and reading approximately 12 books that had been on his list for ages. He used to have a reading list taped to the refrigerator, with books he read, books he still had to read, and books he wanted to buy. Harry would usually bring him one or two of those whenever he came back from his trips abroad – they’re a nice and easy enough gift to pick up in the airport shops. Now his list is crumpled up and permanently residing in the pocket of his old hoodie.

Well. Harry’s hoodie, really, but so far no one has pointed that out to him, or the fact that he’s been living inside of that sweater for the larger part of the week.

When he wakes up on Sunday morning, he immediately feels the nerves take over his body. He gets to go and pick up Ollie today. For a split second, his heart skips a beat at the additional notion that he’ll see Harry as well. He’s not sure how he’ll react to that. Last time, when Harry had walked off with Ollie, he’d waited inside in hopes of then having missed them leaving. In the end, he’d had to walk past them on the parking lot without looking over, despite Ollie’s whiney bark that had seemed to echo inside Louis’ head.

He wonders if it’ll be that difficult every time, or if they’ll get used to this. Lottie gives him a sympathetic smile as he leaves her flat with a brand new leash in hand, making sure he's not actually wearing Harry's hoodie to go and meet him - he doesn't want to give off any sort of signals about how he is or isn't coping well.

It feels strange driving over to his old home, his heart splintering a little when he pulls up in front of the house and sees the door has been repainted. It feels awfully much like a declaratory fresh start without Louis. Which he knows is fair, but it still smarts.

He doesn’t even have to ring the bell, since Harry’s already opening the door as soon as Louis’ stepped out of his car. Ollie comes flying towards him, all sorts of cute noises escaping him as he all but jumps in Louis’ arms. His long ears flap up and down from all the excitement, and Louis wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He’s missed him.

‘Oh hi baby, hi boy, hi Ollie, have you been a good boy? Yes you have, haven’t you? Have you missed me? I’ve missed you too, oh darling, I love you so much,’ Louis mumbles into his Ollie’s fur as he holds him close, rocking him side to side in his arms like he’d do with a baby.

Ollie reaches up to lick his face, making Louis break out into a blinding grin, before he starts wriggling and Louis sets him back down on the ground for his own safety.

Ollie barks up at him, circles his legs before pushing his head against his calf to ask for more attention. Louis giggles at the dramatics when Ollie rolls over with his belly upwards, resulting in Louis crouching so he can rub his tummy.

“Guess he really missed you,” Harry muses, and right – Harry. Louis had successfully ignored his presence, but now he can’t help himself but gaze up at where Harry’s still hesitantly leaning against the doorpost.

‘Yeah. I missed him too,’ Louis replies as he quickly refocuses on Oliver. He knows it’s bad and unfair of him, but Louis can’t help but feel disappointed at seeing Harry looking so composed. Not that he expected or wanted to see him be a wreck either.

“I eh – hope you’re okay? The statement went out earlier this week. Just so you know, I asked them not to contact you.”

Louis can hear the awkwardness in Harry’s voice, and a weak laugh escapes him. How pathetic that they’ve ended up at a point where they don’t even know how to act around one another, when once upon a time he’d been _so_ sure Harry was the one.

He stands up after clipping the new leash to Ollie’s collar, and comes face to face with the expected nervous hand fiddling that Harry always used to do. Funny how despite everything, some things don’t change.

‘Fine. You know I won’t talk to them, anyways. Never have. Won’t change now.’ Maybe it comes out a little harsher than he’d originally intended the words to sound, but Louis doesn’t feel that bad about it. He knows Harry means well, means to protect him – but sometimes it comes across as him wanting to protect himself most of all. Another thing that’s never changed.

“Right. Good, I guess. That you’re – eh – doing well. I’ll be in Scotland the next two weeks for some reshoots. So should I text you when I’ve wrapped?”

It’s probably wise that Harry just ignores his hostile tone and talks logistics. That’s safe, at least.

Louis nods, absentmindedly shifting to pet Ollie’s head who’s still trying to draw attention towards himself. It simultaneously warms and breaks his heart. He hasn’t asked for any of this either.

‘Yeah. I can bring him over when you’re back.’

The comment seems to surprise Harry, since he furrows his brows and leans forward as if physically thrown by Louis’ words.

“Oh. I mean, I can pick him up – that’s not a problem, truly.”

‘Harry. People recognise you. I don’t want anyone to follow either of us around. So if you don’t mind, I’d rather bring Oliver to you when you’re actually home.’

Louis feels only a slight sliver of guilt as he takes in Harry’s expression changing from confused to hurt, before smoothing out in a neutral face once again. The neutral face he usually reserved for unimportant people at industry parties who wanted to schmooze with him, while Harry would allow it in the spirit of being polite.

And yeah, whatever tiny band-aid Louis had tried to temporarily place over his heart is definitely violently being ripped off of there again. He doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that look. Then again, maybe that’s all he deserves. Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe awkward and stilted conversations are all that Harry and him can have as ‘friends’.

“Fine, I suppose. I’ll just – text you then. Do you have everything?” Harry asks him, glancing down to Ollie, then to Louis’ car, apparently intent on avoiding Louis’ eyes. Louis won’t call him on it, since it’s definitely easier to talk when he doesn’t have to stare at the green in Harry’s orbs that makes him feel like he’s drowning.

‘Yeah. We’re good to go. I’ll see you in two weeks then,’ Louis replies as he tugs on Ollie’s leash.

Oliver doesn’t move. Instead he stares at Harry in confusion, turning his head sideways when Harry makes no move to come out of his house.

A whine escapes Oliver, and Louis sighs – irritation bubbling up as Ollie refuses to follow him to the car, and Harry just staring at Ollie instead of doing something.

‘Can you say goodbye to him or something, clearly he’s distressed.’ The words seem to shock Harry into action, who dazedly looks up at Louis before nodding and walking over to Ollie.

He’s not wearing shoes though, so Louis can’t help but wince in sympathy the moment Harry’s feet touch the gravel path.

“It’s alright Oliver, I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Clearly Oliver doesn’t think it’s fine, since he is intent on hiding behind Harry’s legs in an attempt to escape Louis’ pleas for getting in the car. Harry tries to move out of the way, stumbling over the leash as he steps back inside. It gives Louis just enough space to swoop in and lift Oliver off of the gravel path right into his car.

He throws a half-hearted wave up that he immediately regrets, because it’s such a stupid and bland gesture, before quickly getting in the car himself and driving off.

And even though he’s got Oliver now, it still feels like his heart is missing a piece.


	3. Harry

It’s fine, Harry tells himself as Oliver stares after Louis’ retreating figure, entire body still as his eyes follow his movements.

He’d always been more partial to Louis, which Harry understands all too well. But even though Oliver loves Louis more, Harry still really loves Oliver. And he really wasn’t ever going to give him up fully to Louis.

Niall had commented they were being ridiculous, hashing out a legal shared custody agreement over a dog. Harry hadn’t cared much for Niall’s words – he didn’t own a dog so he had no right to speak, really. Besides, Oliver is much more than ‘just a dog’, he’s their baby. _Harry’s_ baby. He should get used to that. Talking in singulars only, instead of shared plurals all the time.

Although, to be fair, he’s mostly Louis’ baby, Harry will admit that. Louis’ the one who’d seen him, the one who’d nursed him fully back to health, the one who’d socialized him. Still, Harry had been there every step of the way though. They’d adopted Ollie together from the dog pound. Had taken him home together. They’d made memories together for the past five years.

And now that was suddenly all over. Well – not so suddenly for Harry and Louis. But probably quite sudden for Oliver nonetheless.

He lets out a whine, shaking Harry out of his treacherous thoughts that he was about to project onto Oliver. Still, it’s clear he misses Louis and doesn’t understand what’s going on at all – though the one thing he is picking up on is that things are different this time around. Feels that Louis isn’t coming back – is driving back to Liam’s flat, probably, maybe Lottie.

Which – Ollie probably knows that better than Harry, must have realised it after having stayed with Louis for the past weeks. It’s pathetic, but somewhere far away Harry feels envious of Ollie for knowing where Louis is staying. And he also hates Louis for making Ollie love him more. Because he knows that he’s never going to measure up to Louis for Ollie, despite how much he loves Ollie all by himself and has found solace in the dog’s big brown eyes.

It’s inevitable, Harry thinks, that he’ll lose this part of his heart to Louis too. No matter how much he’d try to fight it, it’s a battle he’s never going to win. If he’s being entirely honest with himself though, he knows he doesn’t even really want to. He gets loving Louis all too well. Sometimes love just isn’t enough, though. He found out the hard way.

Harry looks over at Oliver, who has miserably settled down on the doormat – as if Louis is going to turn back around and move right back in. There’s a part of Harry that also wishes he would, but he knows it wouldn’t be fair to ask or expect Louis to do that. Because nothing’s changed, really.

But for this upcoming week, he can at least pretend. He’s got the entire week off for once, and all he plans to do is just hang out with Oliver – take him on walks in Hampstead Heath, play games in the garden, and cuddle.

 

* * *

 

 

On day three of Oliver being at Harry’s, he calls Niall for help. It’s starting to become pretty clear that Oliver is not amused, and is intent on making Harry’s plans as difficult as possible to realize. He refuses to actually play with him, choosing to instead curl up in the living room’s nook right by the chair that used to be Louis’ favourite. He howls when left alone at night, which has given Harry a terrible headache due to sleep deprivation. Also when he was out with Oliver yesterday he tried to run away the moment Harry went to unclip his leash, which was a terrifying moment and one that Harry hopes truly wasn’t intentional on Ollie’s part – though it’s starting to feel very personal to him.

All in all, what he needs is another human instead of a dog to talk to, since Oliver obviously isn’t going to give him any actual answers or responses beyond ‘woof’. He’d have called Louis, but he isn’t so sure that it’d be appreciated. They never did truly talk about what it meant to have a ‘clean break’, or how they were supposed to go on post-break up. He doesn’t even really know if Niall keeps in touch with him.

He’s visited Zayn at the tattoo shop and the initial awkwardness hanging in the air definitely implies he’s seen him. He’d gone to get his tattoos on his arm touched up, including the ones he and Louis shared. Zayn hadn’t said a word about it, but it’s clear that he had taken note of Harry’s request.

He wonders if he’s told Louis, but he’s certain Liam knows. Liam and Zayn are like two peas in a pod, after all. Not that it bothers him. He doesn’t feel the need to erase Louis from his body. He has been a part of his life for 7 years, which were some of the most beautiful ones of his entire life. He hopes Louis feels the same way.

“Please don’t tell me you called me over for advice on your dog when you know I truly do not have time for that,” Niall announces as he walks into Harry’s living room. God, he really should make sure he locks his front door. If a Niall can get in, that means an Oliver can get out. Then again, Niall seems to have some weird sort of Irish luck and the uncanny ability to just … appear out of thin air whenever, wherever he wants.

‘Shut up. I know Oliver is your favourite pet, and also I’m your favourite friend so don’t pretend it took you any effort to come here.’

Niall bristles, but doesn’t actually deny Harry’s claim, choosing instead to greet Oliver by offering him some sort of beef tripe to chew on.

Harry watches on in astonishment as Ollie wags his tail, and even licks Niall’s hand before sitting on his haunches to take the dog treat from him.

“Why is he being so nice to you and so unbearable to me? I’m the one who needs comforting!” Harry exclaims sulkily. He plops down on the sofa across from where Niall and Oliver are sitting on the floor and crosses his arms.

Niall just shrugs. ‘Probably because he also thinks you’re being ridiculous. Besides, Ollie is a very good dog. The best boy. He doesn’t seem all that unbearable to me.’

He gives Oliver a final scratch behind his ears and then moves over to sit on the sofa next to Harry.

‘Now, tell me what the real issue is here. Or actually, you don’t have to tell me because I already know what the actual problem is and I’m pretty sure Oliver is on the exact same wavelength.’

Harry sighs, and mutters angrily to himself about how stupid it was to invite someone with no pets over to advise him on how to handle his dog. Niall ignores him and continues unperturbed with his analysis of Harry’s apparent issue. He doesn’t have any issues, thank you very much.

God, he hated it whenever Louis turned on the psychologist mode. He almost tries to convince himself he’s relieved he’ll never have to go through that again, but it doesn’t quite work. He’d take Louis psycho-analysing him over Niall doing it any day. At least he got to kiss Louis to try and shut him up. It didn’t always work, but it was always fun to try though. Can’t really do that with Niall.

‘Just admit that you miss him, Harry. It’s okay. I’ve seen how you’ve redecorated, but changing your front door colour from blue to green truly isn’t going to magically make you get over a seven year long relationship.’

“I don’t miss him.” 

Harry’s not sure what he’s trying to prove to Niall by obstinately lying about how he’s feeling. Niall is his best mate. He’s one of the only people in the industry that he trusts, even though Niall is actual friends with everybody, and Harry only _pretends_ to be friends with everybody.

‘Alright then, still firmly in stage 1 of the process: denial. Well, if you don’t miss him and you’re absolutely not being miserable here all by yourself, and if you’ve taken good care of Oliver so far today by walking him and feeding him and all that shit, you can come and see my gig tonight at the Roundhouse,’ Niall declares. There’s a challenging glint in his eyes that Harry can’t resist, so he nods, even though he had extensive plans for his afternoon that involved Netflix and chocolates and dog snuggles.

He chances a look at Oliver, guilt filling him. Harry only has one week with him, and he’d been planning on making the most out of that time.

“You can’t tell Louis, though,” Harry warns, making Niall roll his eyes.

‘Why would I tell Louis that you decided to be normal for once and actually got out of your house without Oliver – like you used to do when you were together too?’

Maybe it sounds ridiculous to Niall, but Harry really wants to prove to Louis that he’s committed to taking care of Oliver. He’s the one who’d insisted on sharing custody of him, so it’s on him to show that he _wants_ Oliver around and that he won’t just leave him behind for every offer that comes around. He doesn’t get the chance to explain it to his friend though, though he doubts he’d fully grasp in how many ways Harry still cares for Louis’ judgment, since Niall just keeps on talking anyways.

‘Besides, it’s not like I talk to Louis. I think he feels awkward about it.’

Harry can’t help but feel a little disappointed at that revelation. On the one hand he feels bad for having caused a rift – unintentionally – between Niall and Louis. They used to get on really well together, and there were more than enough times that Harry was certain Niall actually liked Louis more than him. On the other hand, it’s nice to have one friend that knows Louis and knows their history, yet is separate from Louis. Still, he’d have liked to maybe innocently inquire about how Louis has been getting on in life. If maybe he’s gotten that article done and if it got accepted for the journal he always goes on about, or if he was still thinking about using Queer Eye for one of his more pop culture focused courses, or just how he and his sisters are doing.

Maybe he’d know whether or not Oliver is also giving Louis a hard time and if he sometimes feels like some sort of failed person at both having failed at this relationship despite loving each other, and also having failed at being a good dog parent.

He hopes not, though. Even if right now Oliver is being deliberately mean to Harry, he hopes he’s not giving Louis the same treatment. He doesn’t deserve it. Harry knows how much Oliver means to Louis. A safety net of unconditional love. So even if Harry doesn’t get to have Louis anymore, then at least he’ll have a piece of him through Oliver. Conversely, even though it hurts not having a solid place in Louis’ life himself, it’s somehow reassuring to know that at least Oliver will still be there for Louis when he needs him.

‘Earth to Harry. I know you feel shit, but I promise you that you can leave your dog at home for the night. That doesn’t make you a bad dog parent, or a bad person. You and Louis used to go out too, you even went to see me last year as well. It’ll be fine.’

Harry doesn’t point out that Louis and him stopped going places together way before they broke up, and that their outing to see Niall had already been rare, as well as incredibly difficult and strained. Louis had gone to walk Ollie immediately after they’d gotten home, and Harry had just let him walk away without saying a word.

Still. Niall’s offer is very tempting, and Harry would like to very much prove to him that he’s doing fine and is definitely not sulky or lonely at all. So, he acquiesces and promises he’ll be there.

“Shouldn’t you be in rehearsals or something then? If you’re playing tonight?” He suddenly asks, halfway through a new pack of Oreos while Niall absolutely schools him on Mario Kart. Not that it’s particularly hard to beat Harry. He’d have hoped that Louis’ skills would’ve rubbed off on him throughout the years, but clearly that’s one fantasy that’s very set on remaining just a fantasy.

Niall shakes his head and pumps his fist in the air as he crosses the finish in first place once again, throwing the controller back onto Harry’s sofa. ‘Nah, already had rehearsals before I came over to check on you. Dress nice, okay? You’re going out in public and you’ve got a reputation to uphold.’

Harry grumbles at the notion of dressing up, he’d much rather keep wearing the trackies he’s starting to think actually belong to Louis but had been stuck in laundry limbo for so long they never made it to Louis’ suitcases. They might be a little short, but the whole socks-too short pants seems to be fashionable these days, so he’s sure he could pull it off. Even if he couldn’t, it’s not like Harry would care. Who would he need to impress? If he’s careful enough, no one would even know he was at Niall’s gig – no one to witness him being there.

Then again, he also knows that Niall will absolutely punish him in some form if he doesn’t even try a little bit. It takes some effort, but Harry heaves himself off of the sofa and gets on his feet. Oliver doesn’t even react at all. Figures, he thinks.

Niall just laughs, then leaves Harry to it, who only musters a distracted wave as his friend leaves. Even bringing out Ollie’s leash doesn’t really seem to excite the cocker spaniel, making Harry frown.

‘Ollie, come on boy. We’re going for a walk! I can’t leave if you haven’t actually moved all day,’ Harry starts sweetly. He ends up dragging Ollie out of the door, then proceeds to carry him to his car while muttering all sorts of expletives so he can drive them to the nearest secluded piece of nature.

Apparently that’s all Oliver needed, as he immediately lights up the moment Harry lets him roam around freely, running after a ball Harry will throw away. He hopes that all the exercise will spur Oliver on to actually eat. He has been rather picky or refusing to eat at all lately. It’s not _that_ strange, he used to refuse to eat whenever they went somewhere else for a day or so – probably due to distress. Still. Harry had hoped Oliver would feel safe and comfortable enough in the home he’s grown up in to just eat his kibble.

It’s not that he’s worried, but it’s something to monitor. Ollie is only five, he’s not even halfway through his expected lifespan, and Harry would never forgive himself if he’d somehow be responsible for Ollie getting poorly.

He’s sure Louis would never forgive him either.

He tries to forget about all that for the rest of the night though, after Ollie has yet again refused to eat kibble but has reluctantly eaten some fancy wet food that Harry still had lying around. He quickly gets dressed and makes sure to check Oliver's water, and then calls for a car. He's determined to have a good time. He promised Niall, after all. 

 

* * *

 

 

The atmosphere at Niall's show is great - nothing like Harry's ever seen before, which must be because it's regarded as a bit of a hometown show, even though Niall's decidedly Irish. Still, it does a good job at getting him out of his own head, right up until a man sidles up to him and seems intent on holding an actual conversation with Harry.

He’s not interested, which he’s pretty sure is clear from his body language, yet the man doesn’t let up. Harry doesn’t want to be overly rude, not in public, and not with someone who might be somehow friends with Niall – how else had he gotten backstage? However, even Harry has his limits so when the man keeps talking through Niall’s encore set, he leans into his space and tells him he’d like to enjoy Niall’s music without any distraction. That seems to shut the stranger up, though he lingers right next to Harry in silence now.

The moment Niall walks off stage, the man turns back to Harry and smiles apologetically. ‘Sorry if I bothered you, it’s just – Niall told me you were here and I really like you, so I couldn’t stop myself. God I’m such an idiot, I don’t think I even ever introduced myself; my name’s Jacob.’

Harry’s a little confused as to how he ended up being stuck on the wrong side of the backstage area – aka the part where Niall isn’t, but he figures it’s best to just let it happen and stay nice about it.

“It’s fine. Nice to meet you Jacob, now –”

He doesn’t really get much further than that, because Jacob just continues talking like Harry never even said a word.

‘I know Niall told me that you’re emotionally unavailable or whatever, but I just wanted to eh – gosh I never do this, sorry,’ Jacob giggles to himself and Harry is starting to wonder what exactly is in the drink that the other man is holding. He watches the pink liquid slosh a bit over the edge of the cup as Jacob reaches into his pocket, before pulling out a business card and handing it to Harry.  ‘Yeah I just wanted to give you my number since I read in the papers that you’re single again and, well, if you’re ever in need of some _relief_ , I’m available. I’ll leave now. Bye Harry!’

It’s definitely not one of the weirder encounters Harry has ever had happen to him, but it’s definitely on his list of most aggravating. Anger and embarrassment pulse through his veins as he watches the oblivious man traipse away, and he’s not even sure who he’s most annoyed with.

Annoyed with the man for assuming Harry’s always on the prowl, or that he’d be looking for a fuck right after ending a seven year relationship. Annoyed with Niall for informing his friends that Harry is apparently emotionally unavailable when he has no business at all discussing Harry’s private matters. Annoyed with himself for letting it all happen. Annoyed with Louis for having left claw marks all over his heart. Part of him wishes it really _was_ that easy for him to just move on. It just happens that he can’t – isn’t that type of person.

He ends up sending a text to Niall as he leaves quietly out the backdoor to go back home to Oliver, too annoyed and too tired to socialise with others. Harry can’t help but feel like the situation is incredibly ironic. Choosing to come home over social obligations was something Louis always told him he didn’t do enough. And now, when it’s too late and all he has to come home to is their shared dog, rather than their entire shared lives, that’s when he actually does what Louis wanted.

Oliver seems to sense his mood the moment Harry comes home and doesn’t even protest at seeing Oliver splayed out over their – no, shit, _his_ bed. Instead of challenging Harry, he quietly moves off of the duvet and trips out of the room, scratching at the door that leads to the garden. Harry doesn’t even bother switching on the lights as he blindly searches for the keyhole and manages to get Oliver outside just long enough for him to pee.

They curl up in bed together once Harry’s gotten rid of his clothes and has snuggled into the blankets. Not that he needs the blankets. Harry usually runs hot in bed, it’s why he sleeps with as little clothing as possible, and a dog isn’t really helping to bring the temperature down. No, the blankets are Louis’ really. Harry’s just gotten so used to them being there, that he doesn’t have the heart to remove them. He’s just not ready to say goodbye to all the remnants of their relationship, no matter how much he tries to pretend he is.

Niall is right. He misses Louis. Every single fibre of Harry’s being misses Louis, and he’s not sure if that will ever go away. He truly is an idiot, giving up the way he did. But it’s too late now.

 

* * *

 

Harry wakes up to vicious grunts coming from his left, and he lets out a groan as he realises that Oliver has torn through two blankets and is happily munching on a Gucci throw pillow. This is why he always told Louis off for letting Oliver settle on the sofa.

“See? I’m right, you’re a very bad dog who cannot be trusted with home interior decoration. Your taste is horrible,” Harry admonishes Oliver as he puts him down on the grass outside. It’s quiet still, the silence only being broken by Harry’s phone buzzing two short times.

He watches on as Oliver shuffles around, then fishes his phone out of the fluffy robe he’s wearing. Harry is utterly unprepared for seeing Louis’ name flash on his screen, and he almost drops the phone right out of his hands out of internal panic.

_Do you really have to go on a date when Ollie’s with you? Next time just let me come pick him up if you’d rather socialize than take care of our dog._

An ugly feeling uncurls in Harry’s chest. He doesn’t know what he expected to read, but it wasn’t a snarky text accusing him of philandering about while ignoring Oliver. It also hurt. Because he could read between the lines, and he remembers all too clearly how Louis had argued it was irresponsible of Harry to want to share custody 50/50. _You’re never there. I can take care of myself, but a dog can’t. You **have** to promise me to be there. _

But Louis is wrong. He hadn’t gone on a date at all, and he’d made sure to take proper care of Oliver beforehand.

He’s just about to send an even snarkier response when he notes the screenshot Louis had attached. It’s an article of some sort of gossip site with some blurry pictures of Jacob standing next to Harry, claiming that Harry was spotted ‘enjoying himself with a mystery man’ at his friend’s music gig in London late last night.

Harry wants to be angry at Louis for believing some stupid news article, when out of all people he should _know_ they just like to make things up about him. And he’s disappointed that Louis would read that trash, believe it, and send it to Harry to make some sort of point. On the other hand, he can’t really blame him for anything when they’ve broken up, and Louis no longer _has_ any reason not to believe it.

It’s been a little over one month now since they signed the paperwork for Oliver, and it’s been two months since they parted ways. In some way, it hurts even more to know that Louis either thinks it’s fine to move on after two months, or thinks that _Harry_ is fine with moving on. He’d thought it would maybe make him feel better somehow if he managed to pull off the ‘I’m fine’ vibe, but he finds that in reality he wants – no, needs Louis to know that he’s not fine and that he’s missing half of his heart and that you don’t just fall out of love with someone you were intent on spending the rest of your life with.

Before he can make up his mind on how he wants to react to Louis’ text message, though - or if he will even react at all - he’s startled by a sudden loud yelp.

When Harry looks up, Oliver is staring right back at him with big, brown, sad eyes – left front paw held up in the air as he limps back onto the patio.

“Fuck.”


	4. Louis

“You fucking arsehole, of course this would happen while you were too busy thinking about yourself!” Louis can’t help but yell the moment he exits his car.

He’s angry, and worried, and still so hurt from what he’d seen about Harry the day before that he couldn’t give a flying fuck about pleasantries or being rational. He knows that he should probably apologise for that text he sent to Harry earlier today as well, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment.

‘I wasn’t! He went outside, was just going out into the garden to wee like he always does. We always leave him to it in the mornings,’ Harry splutters in defence. His eyes narrow then, and he points an accusatory finger at Louis instead.

‘In fact, it was actually your pissy text that had me distracted, if you must know. So if you want to blame someone for him limping right now, then it’s all down to you, Lewis.’

Clearly Harry thinks he’s won the argument, but after all those years they spent together he should truly know better than that. “Well if you hadn’t had your phone out, thinking it was more important to be available than oh, I don’t know, _watch our fucking dog_ , then we wouldn’t be here right now! I’m not responsible for you being an utter twat!”

The words seem to hit Harry like a slap in the face and he looks like he wants to lash out in retaliation, but then his eyebrows pinch together as he hoists Oliver further up in his arms again and lets out a defeated sigh. Louis desperately wants to reach out and pet Oliver and kiss his little head and stroke his soft ears, make sure he’s comfortable and reassure him that he’s going to be fine. He doesn’t dare get any closer to Harry, though. He’s not sure whether he wants to punch him or cling onto him, so it’s probably for the best.

‘Fine, whatever. I’m an utter twat, why not? Don’t you think I already feel shit enough as is? God. Let’s please just go to the vet first, then you can have another go at me.’

Louis’ not sure why Harry didn’t ask to meet up at the vet, instead calling Louis over first. It had been a little unexpected, and he’d feared at first that Harry was ringing him about the rude text message, making him hesitate whether to answer at all. In the end, he’d answered as he figured he owed Harry a bit of an explanation. But before he could even get a word out, he’d heard Harry’s panicked breathing as he mumbled something about Oliver being hurt. Everything else had immediately faded away.

A perk of Harry’s fame is that the vet immediately takes time to meet them at the clinic, letting them enter through the back even to avoid being seen in public. Louis had always hated the preferential treatment, the way in which random people would gawk at Harry and sometimes even at him, just for being Harry’s other half.

If there’s one thing Louis doesn’t miss about Harry – it’s the attention that surrounded him. Still, he can’t help but feel like he’s pouring salt in an open wound whenever he lays eyes on Harry. He’s just so… lovely. Even when his lips are bitten raw from worry and he’s clearly wearing jeans that are too short, and a hoodie that has seen better days as well, hair unwashed.

“Let’s have a look at little Ollie here, hi buddy,” their vet comments as she pets Ollie’s flank, giving his head a little scratch before finally moving to feel Ollie’s leg.

Louis watches on anxiously, making sure he can see exactly what she’s doing. He can feel Harry’s presence right next to him, but he doesn’t dare move just in case they end up accidentally touching.

Dr. Collins frowns as she switches to Ollie’s other paw, while Louis tries to catalogue Oliver’s reactions to her ministrations. All he does is yawn, which Louis takes to at least be better than howling.

“Right, Harry – you said he yelped and then started limping. Did you see any other changes in behaviour?” She asks, lifting Ollie’s leg and moving it around a bit. Oliver doesn’t react at all, Louis quietly checks, so he mustn’t be in pain. Or maybe he doesn’t feel anything at all – he has no idea. They truly should’ve taken one of those dog first aid trainings.

If only Louis had been around, he’d be able to help answer Dr. Collins’ questions. Instead, he’s relegated to just listening, which is incredibly difficult when all he wants is to bombard her with questions himself and probably shout at Harry a little more for being so irresponsible.

‘No, not today. He just hobbled on inside with his front leg in the air,’ Harry starts, and it immediately makes Louis’ ears perk up. He can hear the hesitation laced through Harry’s tone. Clearly there’s something he isn’t saying, which would not be of concern to Louis, if only it had nothing to do with their dog. As it is, it’s irritating Louis even more. He’s about to comment, but then Dr. Collins nods and motions for either of them to take Ollie down from the examination table.

They both surge forward, but Louis ends up being just a tad faster and hugs Ollie tightly to his chest.

“Alright, well. I don’t feel any swelling or fractures, and there’s no visible irritation to his foot pads either – so it seems he just sprained a muscle, just like we humans tend to do from time to time. There’s nothing much we can do to help with that, except make sure he rests properly. Don’t make a lame dog exercise. So no long walks, just let him outside when he needs to relieve himself. If you don’t see any improvement in a week, call and we’ll make another appointment and go from there.”

Louis feels an enormous weight being lifted off his shoulders at her words, and out of habit he turns to Harry and smiles. He catches his own intent too late, so he suddenly finds himself stuck in a creepy happy smiling stare contest with his ex that he annoyingly doesn’t even _want_ to escape from. Harry’s smile is cute, and he’s missed it.

Oliver chooses that moment to lick his cheek, which brings Louis out of his momentary daze and he can immediately feel the heat rise to his cheeks as he realises how stupid they must’ve looked just now. He puts Oliver down on the floor and reaches to shake Dr. Collins’ hand.

‘Thank you so much, hopefully we won’t have to see you again soon,’ he grins at her. She shakes her head in amusement, then moves to also grasp Harry’s hand before leading them out of the office and back outside.

They still need to pay, so Louis silently hands Ollie’s leash to Harry while he follows Dr. Collins’ assistant towards the till. She’s clearly new, and he immediately feels uncomfortable at the way she keeps glancing towards the back where Harry is waiting. She doesn’t actually address the elephant in the room though, and for that, Louis is glad.

Harry, however, seems irritated rather than relieved at Louis’ attempt to shift the focus off of him.

“I could’ve paid that, you know. _Should’ve_ paid that, even. He got hurt during his week at my house. As you seemed to enjoy pointing out earlier today, it happened while he was under my care. My responsibility,”  he snaps as soon as Louis returns.

Louis rolls his eyes and stalks off towards the car. He is starting to regret the fact that he and Harry had driven over in his car, rather than separately. Because he _knows_ Harry and he knows that they’ll be arguing about this the entire way home – back. The entire way back. To Harry’s house. Not Louis’ house. Not home.

‘Sure, and then everyone would’ve been staring at you, you wouldn’t be able to say no, so you’d be in there for an extra hour being courteous and taking photos and signing things, whilst in the meantime everyone online figures out where you were and what you were doing. Seems like a great plan.’

“I wouldn’t have,” Harry protests as he carries Oliver onto the backseat and straps him into his harness.

Louis gives him a look, and Harry just stares back at him all affronted – a bit like a grumpy scrunched kitten and Louis shouldn’t find it endearing but goddamnit he does. “I _wouldn’t_!”

‘Yes you would. Because it’s who you are. You’re kind. You care too much sometimes. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them.’

Harry’s quiet as he fastens his own seatbelt, before looking over at Louis. He’s aware of how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, but he’s trying desperately to ground himself. It’s so difficult to figure out what he’s supposed to do as to not upset the precarious balance they’d established after breaking up. He’s just so tired of it.

Then he hears a soft murmur coming from Harry that he’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to pick up on. “Yet I disappointed you.”

Louis wants to reach out and hug him, tell him that it’s not true – that it’s just life that got in the way, that what Louis wants isn’t what he needs right now. He wants Harry, but he needs _more_ and Harry can’t give him that. But he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to tell Harry that when he’s tried so many times before. He doesn’t want to have to ask Harry to give something up – he wouldn’t ever ask him that. And so he never did. And now they’re here.

He doesn’t talk, doesn’t let Harry know he heard him and just focuses on getting them home in one piece. It’s awkward, and it’s strange to see Harry so deflated and defeated, rather than fired up and ready to give as good as he gets in an argument.

When he pulls up in Harry’s driveway, he makes sure to carry Oliver inside. He tries not to think too much about the fact that he hasn’t been in his old house since he packed up and left while Harry was gone. Maybe that was a bit cowardly of him, but it’d seemed for the best at the time. Harry would be at work and distracted by his film project, Louis would have time to pack everything up and say goodbye to their house and shared future in peace.

Harry seems to not have had as much trouble, given that Louis can’t help but notice that the entire interior has been flipped and redecorated – not just the front door.

It shouldn’t hurt him, but it does and suddenly he’s finding it very hard to breathe, like he’s being suffocated with all these old memories of him and Harry in the house where it seems like their relationship has been erased completely.

He tries to focus on Oliver, and finds that at least Harry bought an exact copy of the dog pillow they used to have where he can put him down.

“Thanks. For coming, I mean. I’ll – eh – I’ll keep you posted on how he does.” Harry says as he hovers nearby, still keeping a somewhat safe distance between Louis and him.

It takes Louis a while to tear his eyes away from a wall where there used to be a huge framed photo of his mum. There’s now a bookcase in its place, but he can spot a small copy of that same picture standing on one of the shelves. He wonders if his future boyfriend will ever care just as much.

Louis coughs in an attempt to clear his throat, then nods. ‘Yeah.’ Louis hesitates, but decides to push through anyways.

‘Listen, Harry. I just – I just wanted to apologise for this morning.’

Harry snorts derisively, then wraps an arm around himself as he leans against a new wooden table. It’s still strange to Louis – he feels like the furniture doesn’t belong, but he has to keep telling himself that it’s _him_ that doesn’t belong anymore in the space.

“For you blaming Ollie’s injury on me, or that jealous text you sent me?”

‘Both, really. Obviously Ollie could’ve mis-stepped whenever with whomever. I was worried, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I’m sorry for the text I sent you. It was really, _really_ uncalled for. I obviously don’t have any business whatsoever to be saying that kind of stuff to you. You are a free agent, you should be going out with whomever if that’s what you want to do.’

He holds up a hand as Harry moves to respond. ‘You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted to get that off me chest, really. Guess I’m just having a bit of a hard time settling into us being just friends.’

Louis lets out an awkward laugh at his own words, wondering where his self-control has gone. Harry doesn’t say anything in return, and Louis doesn’t blame him for it. What is he even supposed to say to Louis? They broke up. He’s moved on. Louis should be moving on too. They decided together, on Louis’ instigation actually, that it wasn’t working anymore. So why is it he’s having such a hard time letting go?

‘I’ll just let myself out. Bye, Harry. See you on Sunday.’

As he jams the key into the ignition of his car, he can’t help but admonish himself. ‘Fucking idiot. Get yourself together, Tommo.’

He’s still in a mood when he arrives at Liam’s – or well, home he should say. Lottie helped him move all his stuff just yesterday, and he’s got an actual room to himself now instead of just Lottie’s sofa and a bunch of boxes. Or well – now he’s got a room and a bunch of boxes, since it’s not like he’s unpacked anything yet. Which is why he chooses to avoid his own room altogether and instead heads straight for the living room to sulk, even though Liam’s in the kitchen making lunch.

Louis can feel Liam’s eyes on him the moment he plunks down on the couch, but he doesn’t actually say anything. It takes about five minutes for Louis to break and snap out an ‘I’m fine’. 

“You don’t look fine,” Liam argues.

‘Then stop looking,’ he retorts.

Liam sighs, Louis buries his head into a pillow and screams into it, trying to will the tears away.

“Is it Oliver? Or is it Harry?” Liam asks, and honestly Louis doesn’t deserve such a brave friend who knows Louis is moments away of biting his head off, yet is still trying to help.

‘Oliver’s fine – just a sprain, probably. I just – I miss him, so much, and it hurts being so close yet knowing it’s over, and he’s right in front of me and it’s like it’s the same and not at all, at the same time.’ 

The tears are rolling down his cheeks now, but Louis couldn’t care less anymore. He’s sad and his heart is very much still broken, sue him.

Liam rubs his back as he hugs him tight, not saying anything as he lets Louis gets his emotions out.

‘He changed the whole layout of the house. New furniture, new paint, everything new. Of course he did, where else would he spend all his money on, huh. And I know that we decided to let each other go, but why does it have to hurt so much to see him actually do it? I want to be happy for him, but I can’t. I just can’t. I’m such a fucking hypocrite, Liam.’

Liam pulls away then and looks at him with something akin to concern in his eyes. Which, it’s kind of insulting. Louis isn’t crazy. He’s just sad and he isn’t sure but he’s thinking he’s experiencing all five stages of grief together at the same time.

“You’re not a hypocrite. Louis, you _love_ him. You can’t magically force yourself not to care anymore. I just wish you weren’t putting yourself through this.”

Louis huffs at that and picks at the nearest pillowcase. It’s an actual normal one, instead of the ostentatious Gucci pillows that Harry insisted on having on their sofa because he found it insane they were sent to him for free when they cost over a 1,000 pounds. Louis had promptly spilled wine all over them, and Harry had just laughed and told him that it’s what Gucci deserved.

‘What else were we supposed to do? Stay together, feel miserable and lonely in my relationship? We tried, but it felt like we were trying to slap a layer of gold paint onto a crumbling block of sadness and misery. It didn’t stick.’

“Right. I’m going to call Zayn over, and we’re going to watch really gross, completely unromantic horror films. Or Black Mirror, but I’m not sure that it’s completely void of romance, though.” Liam states, but Louis waves him off.

‘No, don’t. I’ll just go and busy myself with unpacking. Distract my mind. Sorry about that, by the way,’ he motions towards the loose thread he has pulled from the pillowcase in the meantime.

Liam just gives him another look and reaches for his phone. Zayn arrives an hour later, steaming bags of curry takeaway in his hands. They binge on Black Mirror, then switch to the much lighter series Nailed It! and decide they should try their own hand at baking.

Louis’ heart still aches a little bit all the time. But at least he can make fun of terribly misshapen cupcakes with his friends.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry doesn’t try to contact him until it’s Sunday and Louis’ supposed to come pick up Oliver. When he arrives at his doorstep, it’s not Harry who opens the door, though.

“Long time no see, stranger,” Niall’s Irish lilt is weirdly comforting to Louis. They haven’t spoken since the break-up. Louis had figured that Niall was Harry’s friend first and foremost. Given that Liam and Zayn were there for him, it only made sense that Niall should be there exclusively for Harry.

‘Hi mate, how’ve you been?’

“I’m good, very good. Tour ended, finally got to spend some time at home. Plan on sticking around for the next 6 months at least.”

Louis gives him a small smile at that. He can see Niall’s playful expression morph into something more serious, as he chances a look back before focusing back on Louis.

“Listen, I just felt like I maybe needed to eh, clarify something. I convinced Harry to come to my gig. Jacob’s a friend of Hailee’s. He seriously overstepped, and he’s apologised to Harry and to me for doing what I told him not to do. I’m sorry, Louis. Just felt you needed to know that. Didn’t want to cause any issues.”

A snort escapes Louis at Niall’s clear discomfort, then moves to give him a reassuring nudge. ‘Harry and I aren’t together, Niall. There are no issues. It’s fine. Harry can do what he wants. And I can do what I want. As long as we can be friends when it comes to Oliver, it’s all good.’

He thinks he sounds perfectly sane, but Niall’s face twist into something much more irritated and he groans out a “no.”

“You’re not friends. You’ve never been friends. Never will be. The _issue_ here, is that you and Harry should get your shit together and just… fix this. Fix it. This is ridiculous, you know? I can’t –”

‘Shut up?’ Harry suddenly pipes up from behind Niall, slapping a hand over his friend’s mouth. His cheeks look flushed, as if he’d just gotten back from doing a handstand against the wall, or if he’d just been fucked really well, and all the blood was rushing back from his spent cock up to his chest and face and – no. Louis shouldn’t be thinking about that.

‘I’m sorry, Lou. He keeps pestering me too, if it’s any consolation.’

Louis takes a moment to calm his mind, then shoots Harry a serene smile. “That’s alright. Is Oliver ready to go?”

Harry hesitates, and Niall lets out a chuckle that can only mean bad things, in Louis’ experience.

‘Well. So the thing is that Oliver has refused to – well, he’s been rejecting any foods I put in front of him since the day before yesterday. And before you say anything, yes I already called the vet and she said sometimes they do that when they’re not feeling well or stressed. But then Oliver also refuses to get out from under the sofa right now, to the point where I’m starting to wonder whether he’s genuinely stuck or is just being a brat.’

Niall just laughs in delight and slaps Louis on the back as he moves past him. “Well, since Louis’ here now to assist you, I’m going to leave you two to it. See you, Lewis. Answer my call, next time.”

He rolls his eyes and easily flips him the bird, like he’s used to doing still. ‘Whatever Neil,’ he grins back, then takes a step towards where Harry’s still standing rather sheepishly – almost afraid of Louis it seems.

‘Well? Show me where he’s hiding out. I think I might have some treats in my pocket, still,’ Louis says, though he regrets it the moment the words are out. He can hear Harry trying to stifle his laugh in front of him, but he’s glad he doesn’t actually comment about what kind of treat Louis keeps in his jeans. Louis isn’t sure whether friends make those kind of jokes – whether he and Harry do.

Harry leads him back to the living room, and points at the large L-shaped sofa that takes up space alongside the wall. It’s nice and big, and it looks terrifyingly similar to the one Louis had once told Harry about wanting to buy months ago. His eyes sweep over it, and he can’t help but chuckle to himself as he spots the same wine stained Gucci pillow stacked on the couch. At least some things haven’t changed.

Then he sees a little tuft of brown surrounding a small black nose stick out from under the far corner of the sofa. He can hear the thumping of Oliver’s tail wagging, and he wonders what exactly Ollie thought to accomplish by crouching underneath the furniture.

‘Ollie! Oliver, come on, come here. We’re going home! Aren’t you excited to come home with me?’ Louis tries with all his might to enthuse Oliver, but he doesn’t show himself anymore than a nose or one ear at the time.

With a sigh of frustration, Louis gets up from where he’s been lying on the floor in front of the sofa for over an hour and plops down on a chair nearby.

“You’d think at one point he’d go out to eat or drink or have a wee,” Harry notes, before wordlessly pushing a steaming cup of tea into Louis’ hands.

It’s exactly the way Louis likes it. They sit quietly, drinking their tea and watching for any movement coming from Oliver. At one point Harry’s phone rings, and he motions apologetically at Louis that he has to take it. When he answers with a “Hey Vera,” Louis knows that it’s his agent he’s talking to.

Harry and him really should have a talk about the upcoming couple of months. Louis’ got a conference coming up in Berlin which he really should be attending. Harry probably has some film projects for which he’ll have to leave London, and Louis needs to know when so he can properly plan around it.

While Harry’s away, Louis gets down on his knees again and starts talking to Oliver in a new attempt to get him out of his position.

‘You dumb dog, please come on out from under there. I just want to take you home for a cuddle. It can’t be comfortable underneath. Ollie, please. For me. Look, I’ve got a nice little treat for you if you come – oh for fuck’s sake, Oliver, get down here, now!’ 

He keeps being ignored, and it keeps grating on his nerves. He loves Oliver, but in the moment he wants to kill his stubborn dog.

Louis suddenly hears Harry giggle, and he immediately turns around – just in time to catch Harry staring at his bum.

‘Sure, laugh. You know, I really thought we had a dog, but I guess it’s secretly a mule because he is being incredibly stubborn.’

Harry nods, then sighs before sitting alarmingly close to Louis on the floor. “Yep. I’ve been trying to coax him out of there for over 4 hours now. ‘s like he’s doing it on purpose.”

Louis hums non-committedly, wondering to himself why he never looked into the psychology of dogs. The quiet returns, with the occasional noise coming from Oliver moving his face just a fraction so he can peak at them with his big brown eyes, before retreating right back to avoid capture.

‘So. How’s Vera? Took pretty long,’ Louis notes, curiosity winning out in the end. Normally the calls with his agents were pretty straight-forward. Vera’d tell him what parts he could audition for or what he had been offered, Harry would pick the ones he liked best, and then they’d go from there – organise meetings etcetera.

Harry shrugs. “She’s not happy with me, at the moment.”

Louis frowns and looks back at Harry. ‘Why?’ He finds it very hard to believe that Vera would be annoyed with her most commercially successful actor.

Harry shifts beside him, as if he’s not sure how to respond to Louis’ question. ‘Told her I wanted to, eh, change some things.’

“Like what,” he blurts out, only to immediately apologise to Harry. “Sorry, I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer me at all. It doesn’t even concern me.”

It’s meant to comfort Harry, but it seems to do the opposite, as his entire demeanor shifts into something more serious and stern, shaking his head in disagreement.

‘No, it does. It does have to do with you, and you do have a right to know. I’m going to scale back the number of projects I take on each year. To a maximum of two, actually. Of which one has to be British-based at least.’

Louis is stunned, and he doesn’t quite know how to respond to that information. A million different questions are running through his head, a lot of them circling around the taboo topic of himself. Did Harry do this for Louis? Did he do it for them? Did he do it for himself? Does Harry want to give it another try? Why did he decided to ask about it? Or did he demand it? Does he think he’ll regret it? What if he does regret it? What made him change his mind? Did he feel pressured? Does he think it’ll change anything?

 _Will_ it change anything? Louis isn’t sure.

So all that he comes up with, despite having a PhD in Psychology, is the ever so eloquent “oh”.

‘I didn’t do it for you.’ Harry adds a moment later, and well – even if Louis had been telling himself to not have his hopes up, it definitely feels like his hopes _were_ up and are now firmly crushed right next to whatever was left of his heart.

“ _Oh_.” Louis repeats, then huffs as he shakes his head to himself. Should’ve known better than that.

‘No! No that’s not how I meant it,’ Harry rushes out hastily. “I mean. It was me that made the decision independently. Regardless of you. I’m – I’m lucky to be in a position of privilege where I can mostly choose my parts. And I want to choose quality productions, that leave me time to spend with my family. Plus, if I ever want to have my own family, I’ll need time at home. To be there, you know?’

Louis’ looking at the ground now. Staring at the inseam of his jeans, trying to envision a future that includes Harry with a family of his own. A family that doesn’t include him.

“I’m happy for you, Harry. You deserve that, you know? To be happy. In whatever way.”

It’s a non-answer, but then again, Louis is quite certain Harry’s statement had been rhetorical. He gets up from the floor, tries not to let the word ‘family’ echo in his head, and moves towards the sofa. All he wants is to get out of here now. He needs to not think about the scenarios where he asked Harry to do exactly what he’s done and they’d be together still, or the ones where he asks him to do it and Harry said no or had come to resent him, or the ones where Harry came up with it himself and maybe would like to try again once he isn’t actually gone half the time. None of those are good, healthy thoughts and they don’t actually give Louis anything useful. So instead, he focuses on pushing against the sofa, trying to move it along and create space for him to grab Oliver by the neck and haul him out from under there.

Harry’s still sitting on the floor, looking somewhat confused and deflated – as if he’d expected more from Louis. It’s working on his nerves, because he already gave him all he had and it still wasn’t enough.

It’ll never be enough, he thinks snidely.

“Help me lift this, will you? We’ve been sat here long enough. I’m supposed to visit Lottie.”

He doesn’t respond, just gets up  slowly and helps Louis lift one end of the sofa, just long enough for Louis to duck under it and grab Oliver who immediately yelps loudly at being manhandled out of his hiding spot.

“Thank you.” The silence is deafening, but it still isn’t nearly deafening enough to drown out all the thoughts that are swirling in Louis’ mind still.

‘Lou,’ Harry starts, but Louis doesn’t want to hear what he has to say, can’t handle it anymore, so he just talks over him quickly as he makes his way over to the front door.

“I’ll see you next week when we go for Oliver’s check-up at the vet. I’ll text you the exact time, I forgot.”

He gets Oliver into the car and prays to God Harry won’t follow him outside and make him talk, because Louis’ so afraid of his heart jumping out of his body if he does.

Harry doesn’t, though.

So Louis drives home, Oliver in tow, wondering what he is supposed to do now and being scared of the fact that maybe he already knows the answer.


	5. Harry

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Harry moans to his sister.

She hums, before taking another sip of her glass of wine. He's already told Niall everything there is to tell, who in turn told him he had given him all the advice he had - which admittedly wasn't much and had led to Niall re-organising Harry's closet by colour and season instead in an attempt to calm himself down and distract Harry - so now he's taken to pestering his sister. 

“Well clearly something went wrong in how you delivered your message. Did you even tell him you’d like to give it another go? Confess you love him more than anything else in the world?” She asks brusquely, barely giving Harry time to respond beyond a doubtful stammer as he mulls over her words.

She barrels on before he can give her a proper reply, though he thinks maybe she’s right and he could’ve been more clear – it was fairly obvious what he meant. “Or maybe Louis truly doesn’t want to get back together with you, which I doubt, since A) you are practically soulmates, and B) you said he told you he was jealous after mistaking whatever that photo at Niall’s gig was for a date.”

Harry doesn’t want to think about the scenario where Louis leaves him in the dust. He knows that Louis’ kind of out of his league. He’s smart, funny, extremely beautiful, and so talented, with great instincts. He’s also caring, and loving, and he never ever asked for anything of Harry, when he had all the right to do it. Maybe Harry took that for granted too much, too often.

‘He hasn’t even texted me anything, just shared the appointment in our calendar.’

Gemma gives him an incredulous look as she motions for him to elaborate. “You still share a Google Calendar?”

He nods. ‘It’s easier to arrange stuff for Oliver that w- what?’

“That’s _such_ a sign that you’re not ready to actually let go of each other! Who keeps a shared calendar with the person they’re supposed to break up with? Niall’s right. What the two of you are doing is ridiculous.”

Harry frowns at the accusation, feeling almost insulted on his and Louis’ behalf. They’re not ridiculous. They had multiple talks and fights – adult conversations – before deciding to break up. It didn’t happen suddenly, and they definitely did give it some thought. And even though they loved each other, Harry wasn’t going to trap Louis in a relationship that was only making him feel lonely and isolated instead of actually loved. Plus, Harry didn’t like how Louis retreated slowly, how he pulled up his walls even more, psychoanalysing Harry in the process and deciding for him how he felt instead of talking about things. It hurts to think he made him feel like he couldn’t talk to Harry anymore, like Harry didn’t want to be a part of his life, because that’s just not true.

Still. Here they are.  

‘I’m just not ready to face him tomorrow. I don’t think I can handle Louis telling me he just doesn’t _want_ to give us another go,’ he confesses to his sister.

It’s strange being in this situation, where he has to go to his sister for relationship advice. For the longest of times, it had been Harry – despite being younger – who had had the steady, long-term relationship. But even though she might have never experienced a seven year relationship coming to an end, she’s the only person aside from Louis who truly gets him.

She doesn’t respond immediately, and it makes Harry’s anxiety even higher. ‘Have you talked to him at all these past couple of months?’

Gemma takes another gulp of her wine as she shakes her head. “I haven’t. You might be a bit of a knob sometimes, but you’re family. So of course I was going to take your side. I miss seeing him around, sure. But I hate it even more that you’re so torn up about it.”

She pauses then, and sighs. “Look, clearly there’s a lot of unresolved feelings on your part. There might be on Louis’ part too, I don’t know. The only way to ever find out is to just ask him, Harry. You shouldn’t wait around and hope it’ll just magically solve itself. It’s not how things work. Not everything will come easily to you. Just - you’ll have to be prepared that even though he might love you back, he still might not want to pursue a relationship with you again. And you’ll have to learn to be okay with that.”

He knows his sister means well, and it’s good advice, but Harry can’t help but feel a bit offended at the idea that he wouldn’t accept Louis’ decision. After all, it’d been Louis who had brought up and in the end pushed through their break-up in the first place. He’d understood it then, and he’d understand if despite Harry’s change in schedule, Louis wasn’t just going to change his mind.

‘I will. I mean, I already _am_ okay with that. If it weren’t for Oliver, I just wouldn’t be confronted with my feelings so often.’

“And this is why you should’ve adopted a cat,” Gemma finishes triumphantly, while Harry just flips her the bird.

Cats are lovely, but they could never replace Oliver. Ever.

 

* * *

 

Harry is late. Well – he’s not late, but he’s not early. Niall was supposed to drive him, which would’ve meant that Harry would arrive _really_ early, but he had had to bow out due to a severe hangover. It would’ve been funny, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d forgotten to actually call Harry and let him know he wasn’t going to make it anymore, and thus Harry had waited for way too long for Niall to show up, instead of just taking his own car.

It should be fine, he supposes. Louis always runs late, and the vet usually runs a little late as well. He rushes into the clinic, and his eyes immediately find the electric blue ones he was looking for staring back at him.

“You’re late.”

‘No I’m not. You’re just early for once,’ he automatically replies, then sits next to Louis and leans downwards to pet Oliver. It’s both a good way to regain his normal breathing pattern without Louis noticing, and a way to keep him from having to look at Louis and accidentally start blabbing about how Louis is the love of his life and he really would like to get back on track with the whole ‘forever’ bit.

The waiting room is quiet, and when Harry surfaces again he quickly scans the space to see how many people are also there to have their pets seen to. There’s only one lady with a rabbit, he thinks, in a travel cage. She looks contemplative, as if she’s trying to figure out why Harry looks so familiar. He attempts a smile at her, but he just gets a scowl in response. Not a fan, then – he thinks to himself.

“Oliver?” Dr. Collins asks, and they’re immediately ushered into an examination room.

Louis puts Oliver up on the table at the vet’s request, as he tells her about Oliver’s progress since their last meeting.

‘He still hobbles, but it seems like he switches between legs? I could swear it was his left front leg, but this morning he wasn’t using the right one instead. He also refuses to eat, but I was thinking that might be due to pain? I wouldn’t like eating either if my leg was throbbing all day.’

Dr. Collins frowns at that, and proposes she do a general check-up first before moving onto his legs. Harry can feel the nerves radiating off of Louis as he puts Oliver down on the scale first. There’s not much of a change, but still enough for Dr. Collins to note down the difference.

Maybe it’s instinctual, or maybe it’s just the way he still folds whenever he’s in Louis’ vicinity, but within moments he’s holding tightly onto Louis’ hand while Dr. Collins further examines Oliver’s legs and spine.

“How are things between the two of you?”

It’s a bit of an inappropriate question, if it were up to Harry, and even Louis seems rather taken aback by the sudden interest in their personal relationship. He guesses it’s one of those things that people feel they’re entitled to knowing, since they’re in the public eye.

‘As good as it gets between exes. Why’s that relevant?’ Louis answers calmly, slowly letting go of Harry’s hand. He knows it’s irrational, but Harry wants to curse her for making Louis feel uncomfortable, for letting him go.

She seems embarrassed at least, and shakes her head awkwardly. “No, I meant – for lack of better words – co-parenting? Are there any issues in keeping Oliver comfortable despite the switching between houses and all?”

They look at her blankly, and when Harry glances sideways, he notices the way Louis’ nose twitches just the slightest – a tell-tale sign he’s feeling a little out of his depth as well.

Dr. Collins smiles at them then, and reaches for a dog treat to give to Oliver for holding very still during her prodding. “I ask, because his lack of appetite could just be caused by stress. He might just feel unsettled due to the many switches in living arrangements. While it’s true that dogs are attached to their humans rather than their surroundings, it’s still unpleasant for them.”

And that – well, it makes a lot of sense to Harry, actually. ‘But how do we fix that? And what about his legs? He’s also been a bit lacklustre recently. Could that also just be stress-related? Or is that injury-related?’

Another smile is thrown their way, except this time it’s a bit more rueful. She motions for Louis to put Oliver back down on the ground.

“Well, you can’t really fix it. He’ll either get used to it, or he doesn’t. If he doesn’t, you’ll just have to try and make his food as enticing as possible for him. As you saw, he’s lost a bit of weight even in the last month or so. I’d expect him to know how much he needs to eat to remain healthy, but dogs can be incredibly stubborn. As for his injury – I’d like to do one final test, but he’s rather distracted by his two owners finally being in the same room again. If you please, it’d be wonderful if you could step out for just a second or two.”

It’s not like they actually have much of a choice. They both want to know what’s wrong with Oliver so they’ll at least know what they’re dealing with. Of course they’ll step out, if that’s necessary.

She points towards the door that connects to another examination room with a wink, allowing Harry – and by extension Louis - a reprieve from any potential stares. The moment they’re alone, Louis turns to Harry with a worried look on his face.

‘She seemed too chipper for it to be serious, right?’

Harry nods in agreement, but it doesn’t seem to be enough to stop Louis’ nervous jitters.

‘Can’t believe it’s our fault,’ Louis says softly, as he leans against the examination table and stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets.

“It is the way it is, Lou. Not much we can do,” Harry tries to assure him, but all it seems to do is make Louis raise his eyebrows at him for quoting Louis’ own chest tattoo back to him.

‘Still feels like we did shit,’ he can hear Louis mutter, forcefully gazing at his Vans. They’re nice Vans. Harry is pretty sure Louis must’ve only gotten them recently, since he doesn’t recognise them. Then again, Louis did always own a _lot_ of Vans.

‘I know it’s probably a bit too much to ask, given – everything, but I think I could use a good cuddle right about now.’ Louis is now looking at him bashfully, seemingly almost embarrassed at his own request.

He really doesn’t have to be, since Harry couldn’t possibly ask for more at the moment

“Of course,” Harry immediately agrees and moves to embrace Louis tightly. He just wants to hold Louis, even though he’s scared that the more he pulls, Louis will want to let go. Still, he will take this small moment and maybe just hold Louis on the edge of too tight. He can’t lie to himself – he needs the cuddle too.

They don’t get to hold each other for nearly enough time. Dr. Collins knocks once, then pushes the door open and motions for the two men to follow her back in the room. Louis whispers a small ‘thanks’ in Harry's direction, before quickly slipping through the door.

Oliver barks at them happily as they re-enter, tail wagging in the air as he wobbles over to Louis and Harry. While the wobble worries Harry, Dr. Collins doesn’t seem overly concerned at all.

“Alright. So – the most important thing here is that you don’t have to _really_ worry about any injuries,” she pauses. He can see some of the stress wrinkles disappear from Louis’ face, only to be replaced by new nervous ones. Harry’s sure his face is making a similar expression.

“It’s not his legs that have somehow gotten sprained, injured or broken. His heart is. Some dogs go to extreme lengths to secure attention from their owners, and in this case it is pretty clear that Oliver is essentially faking an injury whenever you two are around.”

Harry can feel himself deflate. Because that’s just very sad – their dog is mourning their failed relationship as much as they are. It’s not what Harry had ever envisioned when Louis and him had adopted Oliver all those years ago as a scared little puppy from the pound.

“All I can advise you to do is just make sure he feels loved, and like you both still deeply care for him at the very least. I suppose the fact you’re both here means you’re committed to him, so I don’t worry about that much. Perhaps you could consider – depending of course on how you feel about it – walking him together sometimes. It might help. So he knows you’ll put him first when it matters, yeah?”

It makes perfect sense. Louis nods, as Harry thanks her for her help, then moves to gently guide Louis out of the confined space. They use the same backdoor exit as they had last time, after Harry pays the bill for the visit.

As they meander towards Louis’ car, Oliver takes as long as he can to sniffle every little piece of grass he can find. It gives then some time to converse.

‘Well, I definitely did not expect that outcome – that’s for sure,’ Louis tells him, and Harry grins back at him in agreement. The moment somehow feels precious, and fragile. They’re walking side by side, Oliver in front of them, and it’s so incredibly reminiscent of old times that it makes Harry’s heart hurt. He wants that, everyday for the rest of his life.

‘We should probably try to schedule in some of those shared walks she mentioned.’

Instead of responding to Louis’ suggestion, he blurts out the first thing that he thinks is even remotely appropriate for the situation.

“You could always move back in with me.”

Louis stops in his tracks at that, shoulders stiffening and Harry just knows that he’s fucked up again by saying too much way too fast.

“I was joking,” he adds quickly, but Louis just gives him a despaired look. He hangs his head instead, before looking back up at Louis determinedly.

“Okay, fine. I wasn’t joking. I want you back in my life Louis. You and I? We’re just not meant to be just friends. I love you. I’m still in love with you from your fingers to your toes, and that’s not ever going to change. I know I fucked up. I’ll probably fuck up again in the future, but I’ll _always_ love you.”

There’s a faint blush on Louis’ cheeks, but Harry doesn’t know if it’s because he’s touched or if he’s increasingly uncomfortable with Harry’s words.

‘You can’t just- you can’t say these things to me. I don’t want to talk about this, much less in public. I – it’s not that easy, Harry. It can’t be that easy,’ Louis pleads.

It’s unsettling to see Louis so unsure, and while Harry hadn’t expected him to promptly agree, it still smarts a bit that he doesn’t respond with an equally sappy declaration of love. Then again – it’s not a ‘no’ either.

‘I’m just - confused,’ Louis continues, then trails off as his eyes widen and takes a step forward, looking down at his feet as he does so.

Harry follows his gaze, only to let out a squeaky guffaw as he realises what had made Louis look down. Now that he’s zoned in on it, he can feel the leash digging into his own legs too, forcing him to move closer to Louis. Oliver is staring back at them with faux innocence and a glint of pride, silently observing the way in which he’s managed to trap his owners together, wrapping his leash around their legs à la Dalmatians 101.

“Oh my god,” Harry starts chuckling, and Louis follows soon after. It’s liberating, in a way, to just enjoy the moment for what it is and the absurdity of it, and to be able to laugh about it together.  

They try to untangle themselves as best as they can once they calm down. Harry swears he’s not trying to project, but Oliver looks genuinely upset and disgruntled when Louis lets go of Harry’s biceps that he’d been using to steady himself.

Louis takes a step back then, one fidgeting hand coming up to fix his fringe, before looking up at Harry. He has to shield his eyes from the sun that’s starting to make itself known for the first time that day.

Harry can’t help but think it’s symbolic.

‘You know I never wanted you to have to give up on something you love, right? I don’t want you to ever regret anything.’

He can see how important it is for Louis to clarify that, not that Harry had ever misunderstood his motivations. Still, he nods seriously and then watches how Louis seems to hesitate before letting out a deep sigh.

“I’d regret not having you by my side. I regret it now, Louis,” Harry emphasises again.

Louis looks back up at that, eyes boring into Harry’s as if trying to decipher the truth. Whatever it is he finds in his eyes, it elicits a small smile from Louis.

‘We should plan some of those walks. We can walk Oliver.’

Harry’s shoulders sag. He knows he should’ve braced himself for rejection, but there’d been this little sliver of hope that he’d been holding onto, that he wasn’t the only one whose heart keeps calling out for its other half.

‘And then we talk. Before, during, after. We can start with that. A talk,’ Louis finishes, and Harry immediately rushes forward to hug him. He hovers in front of him for an awkward second when he realises that maybe Louis isn’t feeling up to it, but Louis all but launches himself at Harry in return.

‘I missed this,’ Louis whispers, ‘so, so much. Been feeling like I was on fire, just needed to feel close to you.’

And Harry gets that completely, even though he’s sure it’s absolutely horrible that he’s relishing in the fact Louis has been just as miserable as he is.

But Louis also makes it clear that it won’t be as easy as Harry hopes.

All he’s agreed on is talking.

But at least it's not a no.

It's a start. 

 

* * *

 

 

And they do talk. They part ways that day, with tentative dates planned in their shared calendar. They meet up at private parks, or big fields where they can easily get lost and disappear between the foliage to hide from view.

Louis tells Harry he doesn’t want to ever be the reason that Harry limits his career, that he’s afraid Harry would resent him for it. But he also tells him that he doesn’t ever want to feel so lonely ever again, that he can’t go through that again. He tells him that he needs Harry to say no sometimes, to stop caring about what others think so much all the time, and maybe a bit more about how it makes the people he cares about _feel_. In turn, Harry tells Louis that he hated it when Louis pulled away. That he wants to be a part of Louis’ life and career plans too, wants to be involved. That he didn’t like it when Louis would ‘out-psych’ him, making it feel like he was putting words in Harry’s mouth, rather than letting him speak.

They talk, and they learn, and they make sure to take their time.

Louis insists on staying with Liam, even though Harry reiterates many a times that he’d love for Louis to move back in.

Harry still has projects to finish, so it’s not like he’s home himself all the time either. But, this time around he makes sure to call frequently, and to fly back whenever he can. His superficial friends in LA aren’t _that_ fun to hang out with anyways.

They also don’t sleep together for the time being. Louis says it’d push him right over the deep-end and he’s not ready for that. Still feels too much like a scared, cornered animal to let himself take that risk again. He tells Harry he wants to, he really does, but he also knows himself and his own heart will betray him if he would.

There’s still disagreements, but it’s clear that Harry is going to fight for their relationship, and Louis allows him to, which is a big achievement in and of itself.

However, it does make Harry feel like Louis continues to be unreachable, in a way. He’s plagued with insecurities, despite the fact that they do talk very openly and it’s definitely made him feel closer to Louis in a way that he now realises he’d lost over the course of their initial relationship. It’s sobering, and sad to come to terms with, but he resolves to never let that happen again.

It’s just that sometimes he wonders if Louis is feeling any of that too. He knows Louis is much more introverted than many people that meet him assume. He’s quite shy, and so protective of his own heart. It makes Harry feel even worse, knowing he was given the greatest privilege and gift, and then had stomped all over it.

And it’s not that he questions Louis’ feelings at large. Louis’ annoyances and Louis’ fond are usually quite easy to read from his face. It’s his long-term thoughts and vulnerabilities that Louis keeps tightly locked up in a vault that only he has access to. People just don’t notice because he shines so bright, and gives so much of himself all the time. He’s so helpful, that people never come to realise he’ll never ask for help himself. Harry hadn’t always noticed that either. Had sometimes maybe even unknowingly exploited it a bit.

So what he wants the most from Louis is something he can’t just ask for. It’s not a question of love. It’s about trust. Whether Louis trusts him with his heart after having had it once before. 

 

* * *

 

 

He gets his answer three months – well, three months, and two and a half weeks, if Harry’d be counting, which he definitely is – into their ‘talking sessions’.

They’re lying in bed, Oliver curled up nicely in the little nook they’ve formed with their feet tangled together. Recently, they’ve started dipping their toes into slightly more … sexual aspects of their relationship. (Because despite the lack of definitions and labels beyond ‘talking’, Harry doesn’t doubt that what they have is a monogamous, committed relationship.) He feels pretty giddy that he gets to stroke the soft skin of Louis’ tummy again, worship him in all his glory and make Louis feel adored and wonderful, like he’s on top of the world.

It feels like coming home, somehow. Comfortable, but exciting all at the same time. It’s like that, where they’ve just come down from very satisfying blowjobs if Harry does say so himself – that’s all they’ve been doing, really, handjobs and blowjobs and maybe some nipple action – when Louis suddenly cranes his head to fit himself into the space where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder. He fidgets a bit, making his fringe fall back in front of his eyes.

‘Oops,’ he breathes out.

Harry just grins softly, then pushes the hairs out of Louis’ face, exposing his blue eyes to him once more. He’s breath-taking.

“Hi.”

Louis snorts at his greeting, and turns his face so he can press a short kiss to Harry’s shoulder. He’s quiet then, but Harry can see the tension in his posture, recognises that Louis’ having some internal debate and decides to wait it out.

It’s several more minutes of silence and just basking in each other’s presence when Louis shifts again, alerting Harry.

‘It’s – it’s my mum’s birthday next week. Absolutely no pressure, but I think – I’d appreciate it if you’d be able to come with. I think – I want you there. With me.’

Louis’ voice is soft, quiet as he breathes out the words like they’re both anxiety-ridden as well as sweet relief. Like a burden being lifted from his shoulders just by getting the words out, even though he simultaneously wants to swallow all those words back in.

He sounds vulnerable, but determined, his fingers slowly dancing towards the nape of Harry’s neck in what Harry’s sure is Louis’ attempt to focus, but turns out to be incredibly distracting for _him_.

It’s the biggest gesture Harry could never even have asked for. Louis trusting him, wanting him with him as support system for one of the most emotionally daunting days of the year for him, is so meaningful.

As if Oliver knows how hard that must’ve been for Louis to ask, he suddenly crawls up the bed and pushes his wet nose softly into the crook of Louis’ elbow, silently asking if it’s alright to snuggle up to him.

Louis lets him, of course, and Harry is so in awe he almost forgets to answer Louis properly.

“If you want me there, I’ll be there. I feel honoured that I get to spend time with you and her on her birthday.”

He’s not sure if he’s saying the right things, if Louis gets what he wants to convey – which is that he knows how big of a deal this is for Louis. And Harry does feel incredibly privileged in having had the opportunity to meet Louis’ mum when she was still alive, got to introduce himself to her as Louis’ partner. He got to experience her motherly love from up close, and while Harry’s heart clenches too when he thinks of her now, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like for Louis.

Him allowing Harry back into the part of his life that defines who Louis is as a person, who breathes Jay in every fibre of his being – every single day, it’s monumental.

‘She loved you. Told me I’d picked a good one. I want her to be right.’ Louis murmurs into Harry’s neck.

“Smart woman, wasn’t she,” Harry notes with a faint smile. He can feel the stretch of Louis’ lips on his own skin in response.

Louis hums softly then. ‘The smartest. I love you.’

It’s not the first time Louis’ said those three words, far from it. Still, they make Harry feel just as good this last time as they did the first time he uttered them. It’s like he’s got the missing piece of his heart back.

“Love you too,” Harry grins and presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead.

Oliver lets out a satisfied, content rumble – then farts.

 

Harry’s grin turns into a groan, dislodging his arm from underneath Louis to try and wave off some of the smell that's now permeating the room.

“And this is why I told you he shouldn’t be on the bed.”

Louis just smiles back beatifically and turns to snuggle Oliver instead. ‘Nobody’s perfect, Harry. Besides, you’ll get used to it.’

As soon as Harry gets close enough again, Oliver reaches out to lick his arm, and Harry’s a goner once again.

“Alright then, apology accepted, Ollie. Cause I love you a whole lot too, farts or not.”

Louis grins and turns back so he can properly spoon Harry, Oliver now taking refuge in the crook of Louis’ knees.

Harry can’t help but feel his heart swell as he imagines how domestic it is, and as he falls asleep there’s just one thought that keeps circling his mind.

He’s _home_ again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it!! Hope you liked it :) Don't forget to leave a comment or kudo, please - makes me feel like I didn't write this for naught lol  
> If you'd rather, you're also welcome to come chat with me on Tumblr! Also, [ here is the fic post that you can reblog if you'd like! ](https://goodmorningtoyouuniverse.tumblr.com/post/179011426634/well-never-fall-apart)


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